


It's Been So Long

by gabewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, its like. nsfw but., just. a lot of tender touching and, like warning nothing really happens its a bunch of poetic feelings and junk, meaningful things, minimal horny horny fic, this is soft..
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24436045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabewrites/pseuds/gabewrites
Summary: Don't ask either of them how the culmination of years of staring and silently feeling one another ended up being in a crappy corner of the bunker in a beat up chair. Don't ask why they don't have an end goal and don't feel the need for one. Don't ask Dean Winchester why he's suddenly okay with something soft.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	It's Been So Long

**Author's Note:**

> Oh I know its been years  
> since i REALLY wrote a destiel fic  
> yes ive been rewatching spn. yes im soft and yearning. yes i just want them to be happy.

"Cas just-- sit back for a second, I--" Dean fiddled with the button on Cas's pants and neglected to finish his sentence, licking his lips without a second thought. They were sitting together in a big chair in some estranged corner of the bunker, and Dean hadn't quite been able to collect his thoughts yet. The second Cas walked through the door, they had hugged and replaced the old band-aid covering fear and wordless doubts. Dean, however, held a little tighter than normal.

It was all fun and games until Cas squeezed him back and didn't show any sign of letting go. They missed each other. Dean remembered feeling this way when Cas survived purgatory. Cas remembered feeling this way when he reunited with Dean after taking on the leviathans. Maybe they had just stayed smart enough not to touch each other until that very moment when Cas had decided to dig his fingers into Dean's shoulder blades. Maybe it was Dean's leg sliding forward as they got impossibly closer to one another. 

Words were not spoken as Dean took Cas's hand and tried not to cry. No simple adjective was strong enough to describe the urgency that they felt when their eyes met again. A deep, mind numbing pressure made the room melt around them. The blue of Castiel's irises pointed to Dean's lips as Dean's eyes lingered on the molten air around Cas's shoulders. The world around them took on the scent of gunpowder and sandalwood as their faces moved together. Maybe it was teleportation that landed them in the oversized chair they were in. Maybe it was awkward stumbling through doors and pressing each other against every wall that transported them.

No matter the movement, Cas was acutely aware of Dean's hand on his thigh. Dean valued Castiel's mouth over his own breath. They had both ignored the drool that had slid off of Dean’s lower lip and into Castiel’s lap when he was forced to stop and fill his lungs with air. Dean looked as if he was about to speak, but he only stayed attentive. Watching. Feeling. The earth shook around him and his knees rattled in place just as they would at the start of a storm. “Dean- I...it’s been so long.” 

Castiel’s voice broke into Dean’s bedroom, stole the matches from his bedside table, and struck one hard enough against his forehead to light it. Figuratively. But just as intense as the real thing would have been, regardless. The hypothetical flame burnt out and clouded the room with smoke as Cas gripped his face with one hand under his chin. The heat made Dean wince as air slipped quickly in between his clenched teeth. So long since what? 

It had been so long since they had thought about being this close. It had been so long since Cas had walked into the bunker and felt welcome. It had been so long since Dean thought about Castiel without finding himself near tears. It had been so fucking long since Dean let himself feel small and unimportant to the universe as it threw him into the middle of monumental and earth-shattering dilemmas. But all he whispered was, “so long…” while applying pressure against Cas’s gentle hand. 

“I haven’t seen you in so...long, Dean Winchester.” Winchester. Spoken as an honor instead of a family curse. Dean’s eyes closed as Cas’s thumb brushed over his cheek, eyelashes fluttering all pretty-like. The staple single tear managed to slip out from the corner of his eye and swim through constellations of faded freckles. Cas had seen Dean a week ago, a quick hunt in whatever small town in whatever trashed, vampire infested neighborhood. Cas hadn’t seen Dean’s soul glow pure white and outstandingly human for years. Castiel hadn’t witnessed such a bright sense of hope, of true rest, of peace- since he pieced Dean back together by hand. 

Dean Winchester was resting his soul. He was purging it of nightmares, of worries, and of the bullshit that kept piling on top of him for years. Maybe he had finally forgiven himself. Maybe he had just been fixing up his car, cooking scrambled eggs, drinking beer with his brother, dreaming of a life without hunting and monsters and more hurt than blood could bring. Silence hung over them with a sense of astonishment. Dean felt his breath catch when a flash of lighting showed him just a glimpse of Castiel’s wings casting a grand shadow. 

Maybe they were overlooking the old scars and bruises, but they’d done a pretty good job of patching each other up. They’d done a pretty good job of sharing love without acknowledgement until they started creeping into each other’s dreams. 

Words weren’t much of Dean’s thing- the whole no chick flick moments rule- but he stuttered the words he could think of to Cas. Things like, “lean back,” “move your leg,” “I-”

And almost all of that happened within the moment it took Dean to pop the button open on Castiel’s slacks before moving to undo his own. Did he know what he was doing? Fuck no. Did he know how to approach how casually they could touch and move together unlike....anything. No, no he didn’t. He did know that wrapping himself around Cas’s solid torso and feeling well-kept hands slide up his back was enough to make him happy. Elated even. Who cared if they were a mess, pants half down and hands occasionally fumbling.

Dean pushed Cas’s trench coat off and over the chair they were in, Cas lifted Dean’s shirt until Dean threw it off to the side himself, and they both gripped onto each other like they weren’t ever going to receive a moment like that again. Castiel’s chest swelled with admiration as Dean tore through the buttons on the white shirt the angel wore. Dean laughed at himself as he kicked his jeans off from around his ankles, bracing himself with a hand on Cas’s shoulder. They were the picture of poorly planned, impulsive action, Dean in his boxer briefs and socks while Cas sat with his shirt pulled open, boxers slipping, and tie still loosely around his neck. His slacks were even still bunched up around his feet. 

Dean grinned against Castiel’s lips and aimlessly rocked his hips forward in a lazy rhythm. Sure, it felt great to grind against someone, and Dean was very familiar with the mindless motions of sex, but he was more concentrated on the white hot prickle of Cas’s fingers grazing over the skin on his back. He could have started drooling into the crook of Castiel’s neck just from being touched with such care. He could have fallen asleep, half-hard and really craving genuine affection for once in his life with absolutely no regrets. He pressed kisses to Cas’s shoulder without a second thought as the angel firmly held onto the small of his back. 

They weren’t ready for anything else. Frankly, they didn’t need anything else. Dean pulled Cas into a real, near crushing hug and nearly stilled his movement all together while taking in the warmth of their chests pressing together. The silky feeling of Cas’s tie even felt special to his skin. His heart rate was slowing from a previously upbeat rhythm as he clutched onto Castiel’s shirt and took in the smell of the angel with a deep breath. He could only describe the scent as glowing, earthy, and reminiscent of a rose garden. It was understood that they’d found peace in simplicity, that there was no rush to finish what they’d nearly started. 

Two of Castiel’s fingers gently pressed against Dean’s shoulder blade and relieved all tension and arousal. No big push, no race towards a finish line, only a soft kiss to Dean’s head and a warm embrace as his body fell into comfortable drowsiness. He didn’t know if Cas had applied the blissfully, worn out feeling manually, but Dean relaxed into his arms just the same. “Goodnight, Dean.” That familiar voice, tinted with a gentle smile, hit Dean right in the heart. 

“M- night, Cas.” Dean felt his eyelids drooping and his limbs getting heavy. “I-”

“I know, Dean. I’ve always known.”

Dean would have had questions and demanded answers, were he not too tired to protest, but he swore he felt feathery wings drape around his and Castiel’s form as he drifted into sleep and dreamt of love.

**Author's Note:**

> all comments r appreciated! This is a bunch of poetic junk i spat out to give myself emotions and I hope it gave u some emotions too.


End file.
